


a borrowing of bones

by doubtthestars



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gijinka, Loss of Parent(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: The last time he sees her is in Bethlehem.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	a borrowing of bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raumdeuter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raumdeuter/gifts).

> So it's not exactly what I wanted to write for BSteel because im terminally sad....and angery at the rebranding. 
> 
> Mewwy Chwimmus.
> 
> “In the end, everyone is aware of this: nobody keeps any of what he has, and life is only a borrowing of bones.”  
— Pablo Neruda, from “October Fullness”

She kisses him on the cheek, distracting him from the celebration and the terrible heat of the day. It feels like a goodbye and a thank you rolled into one. James looks over to Brendan for a second, trying to catch his eye, trying to figure out if anybody else can hear the soaring note of a violin fading into the air. 

The match goes on, a brief set of touches but in the end, there is no miracle. 

He’s gracious afterwards of course, shaking hands with the kids and adults reaching out to congratulate him for the 100 caps and the penalty that didn’t make a lick of difference. His skin prickles by turns, Steel observing through him. She knows this family, this sunburned man, these two brothers in her colors, and this land knows her; these people are her people. So James smiles for pictures, gives away a jersey, makes the right amount of small talk if only to prolong her being present. 

She doesn’t speak anymore, is hardly solid enough for the other boys to get a glimpse, but her music always lingers, played in time with every boot and every shot they make.

It just wasn’t enough this time.

-

Ryan nudges him after the game with his shoulder, he thinks its out of commiseration until he sees his face, a little pale and a lot startled. 

“Do you see her?” He says out of the side of his mouth, like he’s too spooked to manage a normal tone of voice. James nods, squinting against the glare of the sun made worse by the strange magic coalescing into a figure in the distance. Ryan had nearly jumped out of his skin the first time he came across Bethlehem Steel, a flash of gold and navy. She was shy, James thought, or maybe she was waiting.

“It’s like living with ghosts.” Ryan shudders. He was a solid choice of captain, but had been bounced around from team to team and had never encountered a team spirit before. Most of the USL teams, hell, most the teams on this side of the Atlantic didn’t have enough history or power to house and form an avatar. Even their coach had come to him with a question or two as James was the only player to have practical experience with the spirits. 

“It is strange, that she hasn’t said anything to you yet, or fully settled.” He agrees, knowing Richter wasn’t at all worried about that. 

“I’d rather _not_ hear it. What if it wants to, backseat drive or something? Can it do that?” His eyes bug out, and James refrains from wincing or doing anything that would give away the disappointment he feels, makes himself walk to the locker rooms a little quicker. The November air seems to bite a little more all of a sudden.

“No, she’s not actually a ghost, she can’t possess you. Shelbourne hardly ever shut up but it wasn’t always about our matches. Got an awful haircut once, and she wouldn’t let it go for a week. Time passes differently for them. Modern things are hard for them to grasp sometimes, I guess.” He shrugs, leaving it at that. 

-

It’s only been a handful of weeks, coming back from the darkest time of his life when she appears next to him.

“You remind me of Edgar.” Her voice curls at the ends like smoke. The shimmer of the snake coiled around her arm glints sharp like a knife’s edge. A stamp of possession and a concession, an acknowledgement of the complicated bonds between the first team and Steel’s new incarnation in the modern age peering out from her dark skin. 

“Edgar?” James admits ignorance freely, but bites back the flare of annoyance. Bethlehem Steel was still hazy around the edges, softly blurred in the moments she reminisced as if trying to will herself back into a shape that no longer exists. He sympathized as he felt the absence of his father under his skin.

“Horace Edgar, born in Wales, reborn here with me. He tried so hard, that boy, to give me the best to thrive. He gave me my first weapon.” She flexes her left hand, fingers curling around air. 

“He was with me when I died as well,” James looks away, looks down, looks anywhere else that might give him relief from the knot in his throat and the burn in his eyes. The lads, the staff, his family had all been supportive. He had a responsibility here, he knew, but his heart was still back home, back in the last place he had seen his father. Her hands were cool, holding his face so he met her strange molten ore eyes. 

“He never got to be here, to see me play for you.” The words come out unbidden. It was the pain of a thousand cuts, every time he stepped onto the field for practice or not, haunting him with what could’ve been. He had thought this summer would be the one to finally bring another piece of home over. He had made plans, had looked forward to the season with less cards and more of an even keel to make his father proud.

She smiles, a slow sort of bloom across her face, “You think he didn’t see me,” A hand moves down to cover the badge on his chest, “in you, James Chambers? The pillar of your belief, of your work is what keeps me here. He saw me, and I see him.” Her fingers are barely alight on his shoulders but his body understands before his mind does and tilts forward to receive a kiss on his brow just as gentle as her hands. 

“That’s the way of legacies, James, there are times only faith sustains them.” She leaves him with those parting words. He lets go of the tension rolling through his shoulders with a shaky breath. 

Brendan is waiting for him at a distance, giving them privacy. 

“Good talk?” It’s curious, without pushing. He’s looking back over the pitch, giving him the time to compose himself, and probably keeping watch for another glimpse of their elusive spirit. 

“Yeah,” He responds, feeling just a bit lighter as his boots hit the white line marking off the sides.

-

It’s home ground, and something about that always makes a difference, sets his whole body into a buzz that he can’t shake.

“We won’t let you get beaten this time.” He promises. It’s a dangerous thing to pledge, but he knows the boys can do it. This team with Matt and Ben and Michee could win if they got the chance. All that stood in their way to get safely to playoffs was this last game against Tampa. 

They would make it to playoffs and they would make it further than last time.

“Another feather in your cap for me.” She teases, passing a hand through his curls before picking up her bow and drifting towards where the Rowdies spirit was waiting in the center circle. The East End drums were already pounding but they hadn’t quite started yet. Courtesies were exchanged, Bethlehem Steel bowing smoothly and Tampa Bay sweeping off her colorful hat in return. 

Michee drives forward like a man possessed and the strings they hear are jaunty, fitting for the back and forth of the game. It had taken months for them to find the right rhythm, the right players to make the music sing but they had. 

“Why the violin?” He asked once. Matt next to him, a little slack-jawed in awe. “It’s not a very practical weapon.” 

She laughs and it rings out like church bells.

“Art can be a weapon, music doubly so. This town has changed, so I did too. My violin has a steel core, just like this place. The right tune can stop a man in his tracks. Music can make you feel joy, make you weep, help you face your demons, and lift you up. Even when I was only made of factory workers, there was a song. My old weapon was meant to help build and now I create. We’re young spirits, collectively, being pushed aside and dissolved every couple of years. Perhaps that’s why we learned to fight with unconventional weapons.” 

Tampa Bay doesn’t give in but Bethlehem takes the victory, with a mean early goal and a fight to the last whistle. 

Pittsburgh is full of spirits. The Riverhounds are young in a city that’s already carved up between other sports, but they invoked the rivers and got their wishes granted even if their avatar was more incorporeal than not. James is almost sure that she had three faces at once when he looked. He doesn’t know what her weapon is, but Highmark was always unsettling and he swore he could hear the baying of hounds whenever they were unlucky enough to leave after sunset. 

Bethlehem Steel’s boots were pulled into the ground, sinking as if in mud. Her face was set in a grim smile. Rivalries held long memories, and this one wasn’t quite shaken yet. 

Michee and Santi save them from disaster, but it’s a long slog to get on top of the Riverhounds defense. The scattered rain doesn’t help, clinging to them like a bad mood. 

The stadium is quiet during the start of extra time. He can hear his own voice yelling too clearly. 

It’s a scramble in their box and Roberts gets the kill, the stands erupted into noise, drowning out the violin’s song. James’ heart is pounding furiously. The rest of the game goes by like a film reel, choppy and fast until Santi gets challenged by Roberts near the box. 

Not a penalty, but a dream of a freekick spot. 

James stares down Mbaizo in front of him, just like they’ve practiced countless times. 

The crescendo builds as the ball hits the net and he runs to celebrate with everyone, lifting a  
hand up to his ear towards the stands. Fuck their howls.

Penalties don’t scare him.

-

It’s Louisville, and her bat tapping the ground mockingly.

Two goals and two blows. 

Bethlehem kisses him even as he curses the ground they stand on. All he tastes is metal and regret. She’s always cold to the touch and he wants to fix it somehow, if he could just get the team off the ground, if it meant more than a development team for a revolving door of kids. He really thought this would be the right combination, the right moment. 

“Oh James, it’s not your fault.” 

It doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

-

It’s Ryan who tells him he should try on coaching for size. 

“If I can do it, then you’ll do it no problem. Besides you can be the next Tommy Smyth when you put on a few more years. The u10s are a great group of kids.” So he does and he likes it even if the administrative part is a nightmare. The academy is bright and shining like the potential of all the kids in it has charged the rooms. 

He doesn’t expect to see Bethlehem so far away from her home ground. 

“This is good for you.” She approves and winks out when the kids come scrambling out of the changing rooms. 

It’s in the academy that he hears the rumblings of a change in structure, the rumor of rebranding. 

Brendan and Stephen along with the rest break the news of moving to Chester with the first team and it feels like he got whacked in the chest by Louisville’s baseball bat. Zach and a few of the other kids look to him, as if he’s supposed to protest or say something, but he doesn’t know what to say. 

“What’s going to happen to Bethlehem Steel, if we don’t play in Bethlehem?” He hears one of the guys say, but his hearing goes funny, echoes as if he was having aural deja vu. 

It’s a league decision, they explain like they haven’t been playing at Goodman with the same problems for the last two years. 

Brendan sighs heavily as he pulls him aside after all is said and done. 

“I talked to her to get a feel for what’s going to happen, how it’ll affect her.” That wakes him up out of his numb shock. It wasn’t like he was the only one on the team who was close to her, but it felt that way sometimes. He had always gotten a feeling Brendan maintained a healthy distance from Bethlehem Steel because he had never managed to see her as separate from the Union. His allegiance was to the first team and Jim. He cared, but it was conditionally to doing well for the bigger picture. 

“She said it would be harder for her to appear in Talen, but if they manage to find some place for us to come back to the Valley in a year, it won’t be too bad for her.” He claps a hand on his shoulder. 

“Right, yeah.” Promises that sounded hollow even to him. 

-

“You lied,” James says, the next time he sees her. She doesn’t look sorry, just worn. 

“He doesn’t understand. I’ve been through this before. Philadelphia is waiting for her own time. Moving me nearer or further isn’t going to change anything. I belong here where the steel plant was, where you can still see the furnaces, and touch the history that formed me.”

He isn’t wearing the uniform but she pats his chest just the same, right where her crest would be.

“You are a fine captain, James Chambers, you gave me everything I could have asked for.” 

“‘Cept for time,” He fills in the blank, everything except for time to grow. She cradles his cheek in her palm and smiles, showing her teeth. Adoration fills his lungs. He didn’t expect Bethlehem Steel at all, when he took the chance to come to the US. James Chamber had been made to play football and that’s what he did. He never expected to find her. To want her to succeed so badly, he would take on the world to make it happen.

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could to make me possible. I’ll always remember you for that, James.” He reaches out for her, hoping to keep her there longer just by holding her.

“Is this goodbye then?” He asks. His anger banked by fear. She shakes her head. 

“Not yet.” They stand together for a single moment of eternity.

-

They re-sign him in January. It doesn’t feel like a cause for celebration, just another sign of the time passing. 

The captain band feels different without her there watching him. The stadium is nicer, but it isn’t home.

She looks like a faded picture, all bleached colors in the sun when they beat Birmingham on their own turf. Road wins had always had a special place in his heart with the team but it wasn’t the same, having to watch her die in the process.  
They manage a tie under their own efforts on their third home game on new ground. She doesn’t visibly appear. The notes of the violin sound soft, no matter how much they push. 

“Is she going to come back?” Ben is solemn, holding the hem of his shirt like it’ll brace back bad news. 

“We have to keep trying,” is all he can say. 

It’s barely into June when they get the news: Goodman is open for their last home fixture of the month and James knows with certainty that it’s time to say goodbye. 

-

She appears with a flash of light, stronger than the weak february sun. 

“Hello,” he says, extending a hand out hoping he seems more approachable than Ryan, and tacking on a smile for good measure. She takes his hand in a firm grip, more solid than ever. Her eyes glimmer with satisfaction. 

“James Chambers, we’re going to do great things together.” She declares with a throatier voice than he expected. 

He laughs, startled, but up for the challenge. 

“Then let's get started."

**Author's Note:**

> Various notes:
> 
> -June 22, 2019 was the last match they played in Goodman Stadium in Bethlehem. I was there! Chambo shook my hand! It was his 100th game with Bsteel and with the penalty he converted, he surpassed the record-high of 15 goals.
> 
> -Ryan Richter was the team's captain for their inaugural year. He moved on to work for the Academy. 
> 
> -Horace Edgar Lewis, one of the first to be inducted into the soccer hall of fame was a huge influence in building the original BSteel up into the giant it was. He also captained for a time.
> 
> -Tampa Bay Rowdies were also resurrected. Her hat is a buccaneer hat ala Captain Hook because the Tampa Buccaneers had a hand in bringing her back. Their team colors are yellow and green stripes and its very loud.
> 
> -Couldn't resist talking about Pittsburgh because it is absolutely haunted, and there's some ghost hound lore iirc. I'm not saying their gijinka is a some sort of werewolf cerberus, but if werewolves existed, I would absolute believe they would chill in pittsburgh.
> 
> -Louisville City FC's stadium is Slugger field so I decided to give their avatar a baseball bat as a weapon. BSteel got to playoffs twice in their short lifespan. in 2017 we got walloped by Lousville 4-0 in the first round. We lost 2-0 in 2018, getting to the second round/semifinal
> 
> -Tommy Smyth is a local philly union pundit who is awesome and an older gentleman. 
> 
> -Chambo has had a part time coaching at the academy since 2017 but I fudged if it was u10s from the start (he did coach them at least in 2018)
> 
> -The move to Chester was deeply contested because the reasoning was Goodman was not up to code, and the FO wanted to garner more of an audience out in the Philadelphia area. The attendance in their last season ranged in the 200s and they didn't make it to the playoffs, their conference standing being the lowest since their inaugural year.
> 
> -The rebranding news along with letting go of Chambo happened this year. BSteel will now be known as Philadelphia Union II. I'm still in mourning.


End file.
